Communication Issues
by ohmygodnotthecar
Summary: They are strange and secret, leading strange and secret lives. A oneshot drabble on Sam, Dean and the way they interact with each other.


**Many thanks to happywritingjoy for helping me club this little plotbunny into submission. It's been digging up my mental lawn for weeks. Overextended metaphors aside, this is a short drabble about everything and nothing. Spoilers for BUABS.  
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**Disclaimer: Don't own a thing, never will. **

**Communication Issues**

They are strange and secret, leading strange and secret lives. Sometimes Sam aches for normal, dully and fleetingly, while so many little things remind him he's never going to get it back. Things about the way he and Dean live, the way they operate. The way they are.

It's about the way they don't talk. They don't have a normal life, in many, many ways, and part of not-normal is spending so much uninterrupted time with one other person, exclusively. Not just anyone – the sibling you grew up with and barely parted from, ever, until one left and one stayed. There are of course good reasons for this closeness, but it is not usual.

So they came together again, time having dulled the sharp edges of betrayal. The old threads are renewed, codewords and routines dusted off. New threads are made, working as two equals in a pair rather than two soldiers in an oh-so-small platoon.

The sheer amount of time spent together has some odd side effects. Like the shorthand of nods and looks that can encompass an hour's talk in three exchanges. They use it interviewing strangers, who don't see the speaking silence.

They finish each other's sentences. They start each other's sentences.

It's about the way they're so different from each other in private and so similar when they're with other people. Alone, they almost consciously separate DeanStuff (cars, heavy metal, obedience) from SamStuff (academia, books, rebellion). In company, they are JohnWinchester'sSons, the matching set, six and half-a-dozen. _Smart, dangerous and expertly trained._

It's about the way that sometimes they don't need to talk. Both think Sam's psychic abilities/weird ESP shit might be involved. Neither wants to acknowledge it. I-know-you-know-I-know-you-know, easier to leave it at that.

Sam asks Dean how he's feeling even though he already knows. But he wants to know it normally, through being told, rather than empathically sensing it in a creepy way he's not used to and never wants to be.

Dean – he just pays a lot of attention to Sam. When you're looking for those little 'gone evil' signs, other things get through as well. Emotional tells. Almost imperceptible signals of intention. Dean doesn't need to ask how Sam's feeling, he knows already. What he's thinking is a completely different ball game.

Sam never used to be able to hide anything from his brother. When Dean sees how good a liar Sam has become he gets a little worried. _I'm just creeped out by how good of a Fed you are_. Fortunately for him Sam's getting all conflicted and trying real hard to cut down on lying to Dean. Doesn't want to die without Dean knowing the truth - all of the truths. The little truths we hide from day to day because there'll always be time to say them later. Later is less certain now than it's ever been.

Sam doesn't like to lie. He's getting too good for his own comfort. He needs to be read, the way he can read Dean, in order to be safe. Needs to get a second opinion on his actions, to make sure that they're Right. There might be better people than Dean for that, but beggars can't be choosers.

It's about the way that, increasingly, it's impossible for either to make a move that the other didn't expect. Dean is unprepared for unpreparedness, completely wrongfooted when Sam takes off into the night (playing host to Meg). This alone is a warning sign, one he files away and tries not to contemplate until clubbed to the floor of a motel room. As he staggers up and puts two and two together, for a split second he sees that it's not normal for two adult siblings to be so constantly close, so close that Sam leaving without telling him where he was going, even in a note, was a sure sign of trouble.

There are good reasons, so many good reasons, for this closeness, but it is not usual. Not normal, like he knows Sam wants things to be. But that's just tough luck. If he can get Sam back alive, he'll learn to deal with it.


End file.
